Is life like a magazine? If so, which one?

Monthly Archives: April 2020

I teach those classes: Connecting on Another Level,Returning to Pole Dancing, Being Strong and Sexy.Be smart. Eat a longer life. Today’s forecast: spring,my bold lip color. Plants will be in everything,everywhere, sparing the planet in just one jungle.Say hello to Mama. I want—but I still want.

We get it. Some things are evil in real life.Actually, we laughed really hard about itin the cult. The real magic is undeniable:evil and blood, a broken monster of food.For your career, you get to make cakes,swim in the future resin lakes, the skin.Which goes further? A hummingbird, or1 large egg, chilled from the inside out?

After four months of unexplained travels in NYC,it throws everyone off course when the cozy perfectsweater is below the unplanned sleep of love, a topstarfish that experiences a wild hit of city culture,a more meaningful convent of waves. Like kayaks?You can connect with a beehive, stand in the lobbyof this chic hotel, convert waste into a butterfly,grab the bison in the center of our hand, absorb it.

______________________________________________________________________________Also, the past couple of days, I experimented with a new block feature that I thought might help in cases where I have long lines. Well, yes and no. It did accommodate them, but with a weird slider bar, and everything was suddenly in Courier or something like that. I could probably play around with it further, but who has the time? For now, I think I’ll go back to normal and maybe reserve the block thing for when lines get broken in ways I don’t like.

Break a boundary battle, the ripple of a plateau
past my shoulders, instantly easier in a matter of seconds.
Cut. Start fresh—expect a year like a fish’s scales, further assaults.
Look for a repair. Stop eating properly. The loss may occur,
wrapping around you like a fabric, a soft, tight silk.

Pure formula, formulated without experience,
the source of heated oil, murumuru butter foot,
balanced and happy, this new mom. So excited
that I can wear what is neutral, hover over this
night. Trail to tavern, a women-specific terrain,
light on a weave of pavement, like running on a
body. Which can be confusing. Define it! Not yet.